


Wizards vs. Justin Russo

by interpret_who (Blizdal)



Category: Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assault, Dismemberment, Everything is implied or outright stated, F/M, Gen, I don't do graphic, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, that one is really vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9922886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizdal/pseuds/interpret_who
Summary: Wizards vs. Angels AU in which Justin stays evil a little bit longer. It’s funny until it’s not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone skipped the warnings in the tags: bad people doing bad things (assault, kidnapping, dismemberment, murder, rape). Everything is implied or outright stated. I don't do graphic. I don't think it needs to be rated higher than T, but if anyone disagrees, I will change it.

 

Rosie and Tina manage to render Gorog powerless and Alex returns the Moral compass to the angels. She basks in her victory, radiant in her goodness. She knows it will not last long, her goodness never does, but she has saved the world, she thinks has the right to enjoy it.

(Rosie doesn’t tell Justin she loves him)

***

“You will never catch me!” Justin shouts and flies off into the night, cackling villainously.

It is a bitter pill for Alex to swallow. She has saved everyone but her brother. She knows it will be fine, though, Justin is not good at being bad.

He’ll come back.

(He doesn’t come back.)

***

Justin has other plans. He will break Franken Girl out of prison, he decides, and then make another one. An army of Franken Girls! Or Franken Boys. Or-

Both.

Yessss.

Franken army.

***

At first no one takes Justin seriously. He talks about _nefarious_ plans and insists on being referred to by his villain name only. People keep laughing at him, you see. They don’t think his evil name is good.

(He picked it out years ago, okay, when he was still a little boy, reading his first comic book. It’s a good name. It’s a _great_ name. He will show them. He will choke them with his magnificent cape, and they will regret ever mocking him.)

Alex laughs too, because it’s Justin. Except.

The first wizard they send after him doesn’t come back.

Alex stops laughing, because it’s _Justin_.

And Justin is hard-working and persistent and brilliant.

She never thought that he would go bad, the goody-two-shoes that he is, but he didn’t choose this. An Angel of Darkness changed him. Justin would never choose evil on his own.

Justin is a stickler for doing the right thing and evil is his new right and- oh, _shit_.

She goes to WizzTech and barges into Professor Crumbs’s office. She speaks and he listens, and when’s she’s done he looks at her sadly, knowingly, “I tried to tell them,” he says, “They aren’t listening.”

Justin may appear ridiculous, but there is nothing funny about the amount of knowledge in his head or the way he wields his magic, like a surgeon, precise, sharp and cutting. It also doesn’t hurt that Russo magic is extremely powerful. Crumbs has known other Russos, and he knows all about their tendency to go Dark.

“Can’t you go? Bring him back?” she asks, hopefully, because surely the professor can beat Justin and make him better, but professor Crumbs just shakes his head, mournfully.

“He chose his lair carefully.”

 _Lair_. It sounds silly. She’d laugh if not for the fact that Justin is evil and a man sent after him is gone, most likely dead. She always thought it would be him hiding the bodies of her victims, not him hiding the bodies of his own.

“I don’t understand.”

“I was cursed, centuries ago, Justin knows this.” He refuses to elaborate. “I can’t go there.”

“He has to come out sometime.”

***

Justin apparently doesn’t have to come out because Justin has _minions_.

It’s surprisingly not surprising. Justin has always had minions. Zeke is with him, even now, still his second in command.

Zeke goes where Justin does, in all the things that matter.

(Harper tries to get him back; she orders and yells and begs, but he stays, forever loyal. He looks away when she cries, but otherwise remains unmoved. She glances at Justin but he is not even looking at them, like there was never any chance that Zeke would leave him, like she doesn’t matter. She is not sure what hurts her more, that Zeke looks away when she cries, or that Justin doesn’t notice it at all.)

***

Zeke will never ever forget that when Harper asked him to come back, she had glanced at Justin.

“She looked at you,” he tells Justin later, heartbroken and on the verge of tears.  Justin scowls. He hates seeing his best friend miserable. Harper will pay.

He will send Frenkie, he decides. She has been complaining about being bored.

***

Alex finds Harper on time. There is fear in her friend’s eyes and bruises on her arms; one of her eyes is swollen shut. She gulps in air like she can’t possibly ever get enough of it in her lungs. Her watermelon hat lies on the ground, ruined, watermelon seeds strewn all around it.

Frenkie looks regretful but not regretful enough. Her knuckles are bruised, but her head is held high.

(Frenkie just wants to make her daddy proud.)

***

“Maybe he didn’t mean for her to hurt me?” Harper will ask Alex hopefully, and Alex will look at her arms and her face, where the days have turned the bruises yellow and she’ll mean to sound sharp, but her voice will crack when she says _Harper._

Harper will cringe and look away, ashamed and embarrassed.  Alex never learned how to hide her pity.

***

Tina comes to Alex, because Rosie is gone. _Gone_ , has been gone for months. No one knows where she is and no one else is worried because Rosie may have come back to the Light side, but she had left once. She had left. She will always be remembered as the one who left.

Who knew angels liked to hold grudges? Alex didn’t. They looked pretty welcoming to Rosie when they returned the Compass. Then again, Lucifer was an angel, an archangel, and they never let the world forget about him.

“Rosie wouldn’t have done it again,” Tina whispers, “not of her own free will.”  

Alex sets aside her magazine with a long-suffering sigh and reluctantly promises to look for her, and doesn’t say that she already knows where to go.

Tina gives her a knowing look and flies away with a flutter of blindingly white wings.

At this point, they both still had hope.

***

In a damp, dark dungeon, Justin beckons Frenkie closer.  She goes eagerly, her hulking form filling out the tiny room.

Rosie’s face goes white when she sees the saw.

“Rosie.” Justin says gently, as she starts trying to get away, “it will only hurt more if you fight.” He doesn’t offer any more platitudes before giving Frenkie the go ahead.

***

There are spells to take angel’s wings away, but they were created by the angels.

(They don’t hurt.)

***

He skips to his throne, humming under his breath. Once he reaches it he sits down, sighing contentedly. The soft pillow under his butt was the best investment he has ever made.

Frenkie stands in front of him, looking expectant, the saw still in her hands, dripping blood. There is a trail behind her, red dots on the stone floor.

“Clean it and put it away,” he says and she pouts. “Frenkie,” he says warningly, “you need to learn to take care of your toys.”

“Daddy-“

“No. No. No! Clean it.”

She tries to give him an adorable look but he glares, unmoved, and points to the door imperiously. He snaps his fingers a few times, in a quick succession, when she is too slow to move.

“Yes, daddy.”

***

Alex greets him with a “If you grow a mustache, I will disown you.”

He fidgets guiltily, and she realizes that she has arrived just in time. A minion sniggers and Justin glares at him until he pales.

Alex pretends to join her brother in his quest for world domination, and it works, at first, because Justin can be extremely gullible and everyone already thinks she’s evil but although she can easily fool him, she can rarely make it last long.

He finds out that he is being tricked and doesn’t react well.

She manages to get back home, physically unharmed, but there’s a scar on her soul where, in his rage, he slashed at it trying to carve her magic away.

(For evermore, the monsters in her nightmares will have his face)

“Where did he learn how to do that?” She asks professor Crumbs, horrified beyond belief and shaking like a leaf.

Crumbs doesn’t say _I thought him_ , doesn’t say _There’s a book in the library at WizzTech_ , but:

“It reminds me of the Helping Hand.” like he can’t bring himself to say it directly.

“What does that mean?” Her mother asks, because she doesn’t know much about magic, doesn’t know that spells carry the mark of their creator.

“No.” Alex says, because it can’t be true.

Crumbs is looking at her, and there is pity in his eyes, the kind that sears into one’s bones and leaves scars behind. She realizes now why Harper left, why she went back to her parents and cut all ties. She knows now why pity is something most people learn to hide.

“Is there anything we can do?” Jerry asks, grim and desperate, and he sits down heavily when Crumbs says _no_ , _he is far too gone._

No one notices when Max slips away.

They notice when he’s not there for breakfast the next day.

***

“What is he doing there, in his…in his _lair_?” Theresa asks her daughter, hungry, ravenous for any news of her eldest.  She doesn’t know that her youngest is, at that moment, standing before a guarded gate, seeking entrance to his brother’s castle.

“Nothing good.” Alex answers shortly. Theresa wants to insist on details, because any news is better than no news but Alex hugs her knees and leans her head on them, hiding her face in the circle of her arms. Her daughter sobs like the world has ended.

(the guards let Max in)

***

Later, after they call all Max’s friends and no one has seen him; after they have tried all the tracking spells there are and none have found him; after they spend all their money on gas and their legs hurt and blisters form on their feet; after a policeman with compassion-filled eyes and soft words tells them that sometimes kids just run away and never come back- after it all, Max comes back, dragging Justin behind him, pale and dead-eyed and absolutely silent.

Justin looks at his parents and something flickers behind his eyes, but it is only there for a moment. Then he sees Alex and-

Justin can see the scars he left on her. It has been almost a year since he last saw her but he can still see his magic, like a taint, clinging to her soul.

Alex has always been grey, but she has never been black. There are traces of his blackness on her now. It looks sort of pretty.

(His insides feel hollow. He still doesn’t speak; the words too heavy, laden in his gut, to rise up.)

***

Max stands in front of him, protectively, and no one moves.

Justin wants to say he’s sorry but he can’t because he remembers that he wasn’t – sorry, not at all, and no amount of regret he feels now can change the amount of _I don’t give a damn_ he felt then.

Alex is crying softly, hugging herself, and being hugged by mom, and their dad’s hand is on her shoulder, and Justin has never felt more like a villain than he does now when he isn’t one anymore.

***

Max ushers him to his room and Justin looks around, cataloguing the differences. Three years is a long time, but not much seems changed. The room is still a mess, clothes strewn all around. Only, there’s a lot more girl clothes than boy clothes, there’s a brush on the table and a bra on the bed. It’s strange to see them, but not actually surprising. Max is still in the body of a girl, after all.

“You never did things by halves,” Max says, like he never expected anything else. “It makes sense that you didn’t do villainy by halves either.”

Justin thinks of Alex screaming, of wizard’s wands forcefully taken, of angel’s wings in a box in his lair.

He thinks of those and of all the other things, things his family doesn’t know he did in his three years of being evil.

Max pats his back, says, “I’ll make you a sandwich,” and goes to make a sandwich, because he has far too much of their great-grandmother in him and Max may not remember her, but she too had thought that food made everything better.

Max is not yet back when Alex steps into the room. Her eyes are red and puffy but she is not crying anymore. She’s angry now, so angry she’s spitting when she says, “I never thought you would hurt _me_!”

“I never thought I would hurt anyone,” he responds, his first words since coming back, and it is the wrong thing to say. He had noticed the emphasis on _me_ , he truly had. But.

Max comes in then, carrying two plates filled with sandwiches and Alex shoots him a grim smile, “Are you _sure_ he’s back to himself,” she asks, “or are we all going to end up with our throats slit open?”

“I’m sure.”

“How _did_ he come back to himself anyway? What did you do?”

Max looks down, at the plates he’s holding and through them, “What I had to.”

Alex freezes, that parody of a smile stuck on her face for a second, two seconds, three- Justin counts them-

“Maxie, what did you _do_?”

He shrugs, “Nothing permanent.”

Alex blanches, backing away from Justin. He relishes in it, before he remembers that this is his little sister and she is terrified of him. Worse yet, she has cause to be. The entire world slides out of focus and he has to sit on his hands to hide the way they’re suddenly shaking. He blinks, trying to clear the image before his eyes.

“Not him! He won’t become evil again. He’s permanent,” Max hurries to reassure Alex, before she bolts, “The pain is not permanent.”

“The pain?”

 “It hurt.”

It was agony, but Justin doesn’t fault Max for understating it.

“ _What_ hurt?”

“The thing I did to get him back.”

“ _What thing?_ ”

“The spell.”

“Max-”

“There’s a few ways to reverse morality.” Justin interjects quietly, the voice of a teacher he once was, “Some of them hurt. The longer you wait, the worse it is. Especially if-“ _you had killed an innocent._

“Especially if, _what_?”

“It only worked because Max and I are brothers,” he continues, ignoring the question, “he used the sibling bond.”

“Why didn’t it work when _I_ tried?” her voice is small, betrayed.

“You lied and deceived and manipulated. Besides, words are not enough. We all share our family’s magic. The spell tugged on that.”

“And what? It pulled you back from the darkness? You make it sound so easy.”

“I almost pulled Max down with me.”

Her head whips around to stare at Max who is eating his sandwich and carefully- oh, so carefully- avoiding her eyes.

She gulps and slowly, struggling to tear her eyes away from Max, looks back at Justin, “Professor Crumbs said that there is no way to bring you back.”

“Professor Crumbs doesn’t know everything.”

She looks at him skeptically.

“I am not the first Russo to go bad.”

Alex is quick, always has been, “Max used the Family Wand and the Book of Forbidden Spells.” She realizes. “But- Dad would have known about it then. And he didn’t.”

“It’s been a while since dad had his powers, and besides, it was a combination of spells, not a single spell. It took a lot of research.”

“Max. Did research. Max?”

Max harrumphs, and flips his long hair back. He can’t wait to be a boy again. Three years is a long time, but Justin is here now, he’ll fix it. “ _Please_ , as if. Justin did the research.”

 “Justin. Who was evil.”

“Not now. He did it before,” Max says, “I just remembered where he kept his notes.”

“It took you awhile.”

Max shrugs.

“Why would he need to know how to make himself not be evil before he even-“ Alex trails off and turns to her older brother as a ridiculous suspicion begins to form-“The research wasn’t for you.”

Justin’s eyes are sad, sad, sad (sorrow and disgrace, sorrow and disgrace).

“You made it for _me_ ,” she realizes and she would be furious if it didn’t hurt so damn much.  

His shoulders drop in shame and self-loathing and he doesn’t say _no_ , and he doesn’t say _yes_ , and Max swallows the last bite loudly and announces, “It came in handy. You’re just jealous that _Justin_ of all people makes a better villain than you do.”

She wants to yell at him that it _is not funny,_ but when she turns to look at him he is strangely still and the words get strangled in her throat, because she realizes that he knows.

He is not laughing.

***

Alex’s nightmares wake Justin up that first day, and the second, and the third.

On the fourth he teleports to his lair and the guards greet him with _My Lord_. He glares at them the way he used to when he was evil and they shrink back, cowed. He goes to the dungeon and there she is, his Rosie, hanging from the chains.

There must be evil in him still for he had left her hanging here for four days.

Then again, she has been hanging here a lot longer than that.

“Rosie.” He says, gently and she flinches violently and starts trashing against the chains.

He closes his eyes and berates himself. He waves his wand and the chains fall away. She falls down and then scrambles away, until her back hits the wall. The moment it happens she yelps and jumps away from it, the wall hurting the raw wounds on her back. He made sure they never healed.

He doesn’t try to approach her or talk to her, just leaves all the doors open and goes to his room. He figures she’d find a way out. The guards have orders not to stop her.

His room is dark when he enters it, the only light coming from the night lamp in the shape of Thor’s hammer seemingly embedded in the wall. He makes his way towards the bookcase, pulls out a few books and secret compartment opens in the wall. He takes the box with Rosie’s wings from its hiding place, goes to sit on his bed and puts it on his lap. He doesn’t open it. He holds it for a few minutes, gently stroking the lid.

He keeps the wings, knowing he should give them back.

He puts the box down and lies on the bad. He falls asleep and is woken the next day by Alex’s wand in his face. Her arm is shaking and her eyes are impossibly wide, frightened.

He sits up, slowly and she grips her wand tighter and inclines her head as if to say _don’t mess with me_ , all bravado trying to hide fear. Her arm is still shaking, the tip coming precariously close to his eye.

“I’m not evil again.”

“Are you evil _still_?” she shoots back. She’s an expert at twisting words; he’s not surprised her mind went there.

“I set Rosie free.” he tells her.

She is surprised. “I thought you-“ _killed her._

“No.” He says quickly. He doesn’t want to hear the end of that sentence.

“So you didn’t kill her?”

His sister never cared about what he wanted or didn’t want to hear.  “No,” he grits out, annoyed.

She studies him for a moment, not convinced, “Why are you still here? It doesn’t take long to free someone. You’ve been gone since yesterday.” She doesn’t mention that his evil minions are still here, waiting for his orders, as if nothing has changed.

“I like it here,” he responds, unthinkingly honest, and she gasps. White horror bleeds onto her face, rounding out her eyes and sinking her cheeks.

It takes a few seconds for it to hit him – _I like it here_ \- and then the look on his face transforms to match hers and he is emptying his stomach on the rug next to the bed – _I like it here_ -, and he doesn’t notice when she puts her wand down and he doesn’t register – _I like it here_ \- that she is still standing there, frozen, with puke on her shoes and he is vomiting nothing but stomach acid now- _I like it here._

He sees the box, from the corner of his eye.

 _I didn’t’ give them back_ , he thinks and squeezes his eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. He knows this place. The simple wooden box with a holy treasure inside of it; the bed with black sheets and the walls of deep red and heavy curtains – black- and the rug – black.

He is such a cliché. He is such a _cliché_. From the bottom to the top; from the dungeon to the minions flying around the tower, patrolling.

He hears a shoe being dragged on the rug- Alex is cleaning the vomit from it-but she doesn’t say a word.

He gathers himself eventually and they leave, Alex looking around anxiously, on alert, deeply suspicious – of Justin, of everything- and Justin ignoring the shadow hiding behind a column.

***

Juliet crosses her arms and waits. She has time.

***

Justin doesn’t fight the wizards when they come to arrest him and take him to his trial. Wizard justice system works fast and it has short-cuts. There is no investigation. The injustice of it irks him but he doesn’t fight it. Investigations tend to uncover things. He intentionally refuses to think about his reasons for not wanting that to happen.

He has been home for a week and when he asks them why they waited so long to arrest him, the prosecutor pauses and the guards twitch and he realizes that they were afraid.

A widow in the front row clenches her jaw and in anger reaches for her wand but comes up empty.

All the visitors had to surrender their wands before entering the courtroom. Of course, wizards can do magic without wands- as she is doing it now, the sparks gathering around her fingers, crackling ominously.

Before anyone can do anything the spell is flying towards him. He snaps his fingers and it dissipates harmlessly, just before it reaches him.

There’s a hush in the courtroom. It lasts a moment and then the guards are on him, shackling his limbs in additional chains and spells are cast and his magic is bound- they’d take it if they could, if he hadn’t taken steps to prevent it-and he closes his eyes and doesn’t-

_doesn’t_

-say the word.

(All he needs to do is say the word. Just one word and Juliet and his minions, hidden among the people, will free him; drench the walls in blood and guts.)

When he opens his eyes, the people are whispering, Alex is glaring at the woman who attacked him and Justin can’t feel his magic.

Crumbs is looking devastated, the tip of his wand still glowing brightly before it dims right there, before Justin’s eyes, and the world is oddly silent in his ears. It’s oddly silent. People’s mouths are moving but no sound reaches his ears, for a couple of beats, and then the sound rushes back in, with the pain. The bonds on his magic hurt. He whimpers, and the widow smirks, looking pleased. The little girl clutching at her hand looks bewildered, her eyes swinging from him back to her mother. He recognizes her father in the shapes of her face and the confused tilt of her head.

He had looked the same in his final moments.

He looks past her, to the ancient vampire looking questioningly at him, and shakes his head slightly.

***

Juliet doesn’t react. She has witnessed many a wizard burnings but she will not witness this one, no matter what he says.

She’s not ready to lose love now that she finally found it.

She runs her tongue over her fangs. She’s feeling peckish.

***

He is found guilty and sentenced to be turned to stone. His mother cries as he is led away and his father looks down, his jaw twitching. Max tries to get to him, furious at what is being done to him, and Alex restrains him, her eyes hard, glaring at the judge. She whispers something in his ear, and he stops fighting her but there is fierceness to his stillness that tells anyone looking that he is not calm, but furthest from it. 

Justin looks away from them over to the people witnessing his trial, trying to spot Juliet because he has to make sure she doesn’t-

He sees Rosie instead. Her face is grim and her eyes are sad. She closes them and keeps them closed. He whispers her name, and she shouldn’t be able to hear him, but he would swear she flinches.

They take him away before he can see her crumble into Tina’s arms.

***

He loves her still, his wingless little angel.

***

He doesn’t stay in his cell long. He has barely been there a half an hour when he hears a dull thud. He recognizes it as the sound of a body hitting the ground.

A moment later Juliet steps into view and rips the doors away. She looks fierce and gorgeous and absolutely deadly. He is grateful that she had waited until he was relatively alone instead of slaughtering all the people at the courthouse.

Before he can think about it, he is in front of her and her face is in his hands and he is kissing her.

He tastes blood.

He doesn’t need to look to see that the guard is dead, drained. He shivers and is too tired to pretend it’s from disgust.

They separate and he looks into her eyes and thinks, devastated, _I love you_.

***

The word of Justin’s escape spreads quickly.

“How?” Theresa asks, “He was guarded, his magic bound.”

“Juliet,” Rosie answers from behind her, and hesitantly joins the Russo family circle.

Alex looks at her strangely, “Juliet? But isn’t she out in the world, being old and- you know, really old?”

“No. She has been with Justin almost from the beginning. And she hasn’t been old-looking almost as long.”

“I thought it was impossible to turn her young again?”

Rosie sighs and says, simply, “There are ways.”

“Ways? Like what?” And she is not serious when she asks, “Virgin sacrifice?” but Rosie blinks, once, too quickly, and changes the subject.

***

Justin and Juliet go to a dark wizard and for a price he untangles the bounds on his magic. He sighs in relief when it is done. The process left him exhausted. His throat is raw from how much he screamed when the magical hooks were coming out. Professor Crumbs wasn’t kidding around when he cast that spell. Even the wizard they hired looks surprised when he identifies the exact spell used.

Juliet helps him get up and she ends up supporting most of his weight when they walk out. Luckily, it doesn’t take him long to get better. By the time they exit the wizard’s property, he is already able to walk on his own. To be fair, it is a big property and the main gate is quite far away from the house.

They go to his lair next. His minions have made a feast to celebrate his return and it warms his heart in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He leaves for his room quickly, pausing only long enough to receive a relieved hug from Zeke, and share a few quick words with his captains.

Juliet is already in their room when he gets there.

He closes the door gently. He pauses for a moment, but just a moment, because he cannot think about this too much. He is weak. One look from her will-

He approaches her and smiles at her sadly and she can tell that something is wrong but he caresses her cheek and ghosts his fingers down her neck, gently, and down-

he doesn’t take his eyes off of her but something is _wrong, it’s wrong_ , he knows she can tell, but

-she still doesn’t expect the snap of his fingers over heart, or the magic piercing it.

Her breath hitches, a small sound, and then she explodes into a cloud of ash and it’s in his eyes and mouth and he coughs and breaths, breaths _her_ in and-

he cries, he cries and wishes they had turned him into stone, it’d hurt less.

That’s how his siblings find him, covered in ash and sobbing his heart out.

“I told her not to.”

“Not to what?”

“Kill people. Get me out. Free me. Stop them from killing me.”

Alex freezes and feels Max, next to her, do the same.

She feels sorry for those guards, she really does, but they were going to kill her brother. If it had been her doing the rescue, she wouldn’t have killed them, but if she had to choose between them and Justin-

Well. No need to voice those thoughts. People already think she’s evil.

There are more pressing matters at hand, like Justin wanting to die. He has no right to die. Unless she is the one doing the killing.

“We’ll fix it.”

“Fix what?”

“Everything. There must be a spell. Time-travel, maybe?”

Justin looks at her like she has lost her mind and then he laughs and it’s short, quickly cut off. It sounds no better than the sobbing.

“Magic can’t fix everything, Alex.”

“Then you’re doing it wrong.”

Her brother just shakes his head, still sitting in the ashes of his dead girlfriend. She’d go to him, but her boots are new and she doesn’t want Juliet on them.

There’s a thought nagging at her, “Your minions didn’t stop us from coming to you. They didn’t stop Max earlier, either.”

“They have their orders,” Justin says, nonchalantly, “Only I can harm you.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. She just looks at him and he doesn’t look back. He’s drawing symbols in the ashes and he doesn’t seem to think that anything is wrong with what he had just said.

“Really,” she drawls out, but her heart is beating madly. He hears something in her voice and frowns, raising his eyes to meet hers.

He is thinking hard, obviously rewinding the conversation in his head and she is waiting for it- _hoping_ \- that he will figure it out. She breathes a sigh of relief when his face goes stark white in comprehension. 

It is not okay for him to hurt them.

He _has_ hurt her. That was not okay. It was not okay. He doesn’t get to do that.

(He did that)

“The Stone of Dreams.” She suggests reluctantly, getting back to the problem at hand, and Justin just looks at her and it is clear his answer is no. They played with it once and almost lost everything. She’s not very keen on using it either.

“Do _you_ have any idea?” She asks Max and he raises his hands before him, as if to ward her off.

“Hey, I brought him back. I can’t do everything!”

“I’ll turn myself in,” Justin interrupts.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she says at the same time Max says, shortly, “No.”

Justin looks a bit startled and ready to argue but they glare at him and he shuts his mouth.

***

Next morning she finds him in his room, pointing the monster detector at himself.

“It doesn’t say what level I am.”

“That’s because you are not a monster.”

“She was level six,” he says, speaking of Juliet, and ignoring her completely, “I am worse, and yet-” he turns the detector off and then on again but it remains inactive. He hurls it at the wall and it smashes into pieces. Alex flinches away and he looks apologetic for a moment, before he swallows it down and looks at her defiantly as if to say _this is me now, anger and destruction and badness_.

She visibly gathers herself, rolls her eyes and huffs. “You’re not a monster, you are an idiot.” Turning sharply on her heels, she leaves the room.  

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Max tells him and Justin turns to the sound of his voice in surprise, not at the words but at him being there. He had not noticed that his brother was in the room. Max nods, satisfied, “I’m practicing stealth.”

Justin blinks, “Why?”

“For when we go into hiding.” he says, like it is a foregone conclusion, like Justin isn’t still planning to turn himself in when his siblings are not looking.

Max crosses his arms and perhaps Justin wasn’t quite as subtle as he thought he was.

“Damn right,” Max says and then shuffles awkwardly, “Besides, you’re not going anywhere until you turn me back into a boy.”

“Why didn’t you go to Crumbs?”

“I _did_. He told me to do it myself, that it was a good finishing project for WizTech. I tried, I can’t do it. I’ll never finish school. Justin, I don’t want to still be in school when I’m old and grey!”

Justin scrubs a hand over his face, feeling suddenly bone-deep tired. “I can’t do it either, Max.”

“I know you couldn’t do it when I was first turned, but it’s been years since then. I know you didn’t stop studying magic while you were away being evil. I want to be a boy again. I do not want to be a lesbian. None of the girls I like are lesbians. Justin-” he says, voice dropping to a whisper, “I’m sick of skirts and beauty pageants. “

“Max, I don’t think you want to kill unicorns.”

“Of course I don’t want to kill unicorns. What do unicorns have to do with-“ he breaks off at Justin’s significant look, “Oh. That’s not good.”

“I don’t know any other way.”

“You will figure it out. You’ll have time when we are in hiding.”

“Max-”

“No. You and Alex owe me. Big time. You are fixing this. Now, how are we going to tell mom and dad that we are moving? You know they will want to come with us. And how are we going to get to them? The wizards must know that we will try to reach them. And obviously we don’t want them to catch you and kill you.”

***

In the end they don’t have to do anything. Their father shows up, grim-faced, clutching Shakira’s hand.

“Hi, uncle Kelbo.”

“Hi, kids. Got to go. See you later.” Shakira says and transports out before anyone can say anything.

“Get your things, we are leaving.” Jerry says and no one moves. He sighs, “Kelbo went to get your mother. They will meet us there. The sooner we go the better. I don’t think that we were followed, but you never know.”

“Go where?” Alex asks and their father looks at them uncomfortably.

“To your grandfather’s lair of evil.” He admits, looking pained.

“To grandpa’s _what_?!”

“We Russo’s have a nasty habit of going evil.  Luckily, we rarely stay that way. Your grandpa’s stint was a short one, but his lair is well hidden.”

“ _We_ Russo’s?”

Their father blushes and rubs at the back of his neck, “About that. Yeah. We- We need to go. Now.”

“ _Dad_.”

Jerry grimaces but Alex gives him a look and he sighs, “Fine. My aunt caught me and set me right before I could do any damage.” He looks apologetically at Justin and Justin wants to get angry, to yell and scream because he did a lot of damage before Max stopped him. Rosie poisoned his soul and no one noticed before it was too late and it’s not fair. It’s not fair.

He opens his mouth but his father’s face stops him short. Jerry looks ready to cry.

He hears Alex and Max grab their bags, because they packed before coming to find him, ready to go and grab their parents and apparently their parents had the same thought-

Alex grabs his elbow and Max his shoulder and his dad reaches out and-

And perhaps- perhaps Justin could have fought the evil harder, and perhaps he never stood a chance. It doesn’t matter now.

Their hands connect and Justin directs his magic to follow his father’s thoughts and lead them to their new home.

The last thing he sees before magic whisks them away is relief, stark on his dad’s face.  

***

He almost falls again, a few years later, after Max nearly dies in a car accident. No one knew that the spell he did to make Justin good again needed him to be alive to stick.

Max’s heart stops, for a few seconds, and wings materialize on Justin’s back, black as tar.

The driver that ran over his little brother would have died between the screams of _demon demon_ , if not for Jerry and the fire extinguisher he smashes into the back of his son’s head.

“He’ll thank me later,” he tells the nurse looking at the scene in horror and Justin does.

(he does, he does, he does, once he wakes up and Max’s heart is beating and the wings are gone like they were never there. His dad looks him in the eyes- “I promised to stop you if you ever go down that path again.”

Justin closes his eyes and whispers, hoarsely, _thank you_.

The fire extinguisher is still there, next to his father’s chair, in easy reach and Justin’s head hurts and he is so grateful he’d fall down to his knees if he wasn’t lying on the bed, unable to lift his head.)

***

Justin is in the room when Max wakes up. His brother’s eyes zero in on him and there is something raw in them and he was unconscious- there is no way he could possibly _know_ -

“Don’t you dare,” he rasps out and his face is covered in cuts and bruises and his bones are broken and borrowed blood is dripping into his veins because he has lost too much of his own, but there is nothing fragile about him in that moment. “I’ll rip out your wings, if you ever grow them again.” He frowns, “I’ll pluck you like a chicken.”

“If they come back it would mean that you are dead.”

“I will come back from the dead just to do it.”

“You can’t come back from the dead.”

“I just did.”

***

“So,” Alex starts, not looking up from her nails where she is sharpening them into- who knows? Claws maybe? As if she needs another weapon apart from her words, “Should we just hope that Max doesn’t die before you do?

“Alex, mija,” her mother starts, laying a comforting hand on Justin’s knee but then Alex looks up and Justin’s voice hitches in his throat because it has been a few years since he’s seen fear, fear of him, in her eyes and it’s not pretty (once upon a time, he thought it was pretty, the prettiest thing in the world).

“I don’t know,” he says. “There are spells to tie life forces. To make it so that if he dies, I die,” he suggests and his mother pales and Alex stops, like a picture, frozen in motion. Then she meets his eyes and glares.

They don’t speak of it again.

There are so many things they don’t speak of again.

***

Zeke runs into him one day and they both stop, staring in shock at each other, in the middle of the road, other pedestrians grumbling as they go around them. Zeke’s face crumples after a moment and he tries to say something but it comes out unintelligible. He sits down, heavily, onto the concrete and Justin joins him. There is relief on his face and anger inching its way there, but it’s the hurt that hits Justin the most.

“You are not a very good friend,” Zeke tells him, solemnly.

Justin swallows, “I know. I left you there.”

“You did.” He looks away and tries to hide the rapid blinking. Justin pretends not to notice. “I knew I shouldn’t look for you,” Zeke continues, “I didn’t want to lead the wizards to you.”

“Thank you,” Justin chokes out, unbearably grateful. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Zeke.

“I am also a bad friend,” Zeke says and Justin shakes his head negatively, to which his friend smiles ruefully, “I was there with you, every step of the way. No angel of darkness influenced _me_.”

“But _I_ did.”

“I am my own man.”

For the first time ever, Justin admits it out loud, “So am I.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same. Rosie is a magical creature.”

Justin smiles then, slightly and repeats, “So am I.”

Zeke shoots him a look, but concedes the point, sighing, “Just don’t go evil again. I’m quite happy with being good.”

“Why would it matter? You don’t have to follow me.”

“But I would. Wsoka rookop aklo klo.”

“Wsoka rookop aklo klo,” Justin says softly, confirming the alien oath of brotherhood.

***

His fingers itch; there are wicked curses at his fingertips, formed and ready and he can never ever let them go.

(never again)

He tries to be good though, he tries. Max helps him, tugs at the bond when he feels him falling. It hurts, every time, it hurts.

Alex watches him, always, judging. He will never be worthy again, he knows.

***

Justin doesn’t know that it is not judgment, not really. Alex watches so she will never again miss the signs. So she will never again be too late. So she will never again save the world and fail to save _him_.

(the world can go to h-)

***

Justin is thirty-two years old when he meets Anna. She is taller than him, thin and clumsy. There is nothing fierce about her; she is gentle and unbearably kind.

(She is nothing like Juliet; she is nothing like Rosie)

She has been living on her own since she was eighteen but it was easy, and not because she was capable but because she was incredibly lucky. Her words, not his.

Justin is living half a street down from his parents, still using his little brother as a clutch to stay good, and he meets with his sister for lunch every other day so she can make sure he hasn’t gone evil again.

“It’s nice to be close to family.” Anna remarks one day. She is in touch with her family often, but not as much as she would like.

He nods, choosing not to say anything.

Six months later they are still together and he starts envisioning their future, his own future, for the first time since everything, bright and full of young laughter. He arrives to their meeting place earlier because he couldn’t wait to see her-

He catches sight of her, the wind playing with her dress, and messing up her hair. She huffs and looks quickly- too quickly, for she misses him- to the left and to the right, and pulls out a wand from her purse and waves it and her hair fixes itself, going impossibly against the wind.  Justin’s world comes crashing down around him.   

He must make a sound because she turns quickly to face him and her eyes widen in shock. She makes a step toward him and he backs away. She swallows loudly, but her face is determined-

_fierce, the way it never was before, and he has a type; Alex will never stop mocking him_

-when she stalks forward, “You can’t know about magic,” she says, regretful and heartbroken, and Justin knows how serious wizards are about keeping magic a secret. He is one, after all, but she doesn’t know that, _she doesn’t know that._ She must be only intending to _confound_ him when she raises her wand but his instincts are still alive, years later. Before his conscious mind can process what is going on, he snaps his fingers and pushes his palm out and she flies to the wall and remains there, pinned. Her wand clatters to the ground and all the blood leaves her face when he starts making a slashing motion. It looks practiced, movements smooth, eyes fierce, determination burning bright.

He regains his senses at the last possible moment, just before the motion to break her neck is complete, and he stumbles back and falls to the ground, horrified with himself. He looks up and his magic is still, impossibly, holding her up. His focus has always been exceptional.

He takes a deep breath and lowers her gently down, timing it with his exhale.  She shakes her body, as if trying to shake his magic off and doesn’t run away from him, but she doesn’t come to him either.

“You are a wizard.” She says, inanely.

He pulls out his phone and calls Alex, “Come and get me,” he tells her when she picks up and there is no need to say anything else. She knows him well enough to know that something serious has happened.

“You are a wizard,” Anna repeats, disbelief making her voice loud. Justin winces and looks around but luckily no one is there to hear her.  “You didn’t use a wand.”

“Magic can be done without one.”

“Don’t treat me like I am a mortal who doesn’t know first thing about magic. There are things that can easily be done without a wand and then there is what you did.”

Justin shrugs and looks away.

“You were going to kill me.”

“You raised your wand against me, I reacted without thinking.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

He scrubs a hand over his face, “I know, I just-”

“You were attacked by another wizard before,” Her voice is full of understanding and sympathy and he wants to laugh in despair because _he_ was the villain of that story (he is the villain of _her_ story now, as well).

Alex chooses that moment to come or, more likely, to announce her presence, “I think it is time we all went somewhere a bit more private.”

Anna looks ready to object but Alex is holding her wand in her hand, pointed down but still threatening, and she doesn’t. She bends down to retrieve her own wand, all the while keeping her eyes on Justin and Alex. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, she thinks and fears and she should have run. She should have run.

Alex grabs the collar of her brother’s shirt and thugs him up, and he goes, dejectedly follows when she points the way she wants him to go.

“I though you learned to control your murderous tendencies, “Alex states unrepentantly once they are inside their family’s lair.

Anna pales.

Justin doesn’t know how to explain so he doesn’t even try.

Alex sighs, “We will have to erase her memories.”

“Who _are_ you, people?” Anna asks, her voice cracking. She still has her wand but it feels like it’s not going to help her at all. They let her keep it. They don’t seem to be concerned about her having it.

Justin goes to her and cheers on the inside when she doesn’t flinch away when he takes her hand. “You know who I am.”

She shakes her head _no_. “Justin I know is not a wizard.”

“Before today, I haven’t used magic in years. Besides, Anna I know is not a wizard either.”

She grimaces at the truth, but- “I didn’t try to kill you.”

“You raised your wand.” That much is true, “I didn’t know what you were going to do,” he lies, and Anna cuts him a quick look, calling it bullshit without saying anything.

“You surprised me, and I reacted. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“And still, you want to erase my memories.”

“I don’t want to erase you memories. “

She nods at Alex, who is twirling her wand impatiently, “But she does. And you are going to let her.”

“We can’t have anyone knowing about us,” Alex says when he remains guiltily quiet.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you are getting.”

***

It would be so easy to stay with her, to ignore that there was a day when she knew who he was, and just pretend it never happened. He and Alex are the only ones who remember it, and Alex wouldn’t tell, not if he convinced her it would make him happy, not-

Max is tugging at their bond. Max is tugging at their bond, urgent, yanking him back from his thoughts.

***

Anna waits for Justin. The wind plays with her dress and messes up her hair. She looks around herself quickly and reaches for her wand-

“Justin!” She exclaims and smiles when she spots him coming her way, quickly snatching her hand away from her wand. He didn’t see it. Good. She wishes things were different. She wishes she could tell him about magic.

“Anna,” He says softly, smiling slightly. Normally his smile makes her think foolish things, like giving up her magic so she could have him smile at her for the rest of their lives. Not today.

Today his eyes don’t match the smile. Today his eyes are dead things, as if made of glass.

(he breaks up with her that night. she screams-even though she never screams- why? I met somebody else, he says- lies, all lies.)

***

He starts using magic regularly after that. He doesn’t even notice that he is doing it at first. It’s Alex’s eyes that clue him in, piercing and careful and he stops what he is doing. One must always be mindful of Alex.

His juice floats midair, stopped on its way to him. He looks at it confused. He doesn’t remember summoning it.

“You’re using again,” Alex accuses like magic is a drug and he has fallen off the wagon.

He gets up, goes to his juice and grabs it out of thin air, “Who is to say I haven’t been using it all this time?”

Panic flashes across her face, sweet, sweet panic, but is gone as quickly as it came, “I’d have known.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” She looks ready to argue, furious that he doubts her, “But Max would have.” He offers, and she scowls, jealous that they have a bond she doesn’t share.

“The Good Justin spell.” She bits out, disdainfully. She doesn’t hate the spell, he knows. She just hates not being the one to hold his reins.

He knows it’s a good thing it’s not her; she is far too grey to keep him light.

***

Couple of years later, Alex meets a guy and falls in love. When she brings him to their parents’ house to meet the family, she’s already wearing a sparkling new ring on her finger. Her face is radiant with joy and when she tugs her fiancé over to introduce him to Justin she looks almost shy and delicate and vulnerable and _Oh_ , he thinks, _he is the one, the one you never want to let go._

“This is Jack,” she says and Justin looks at the guy, properly, and freezes.

Alex grows tense when Jack’s extended hand goes ignored. She lets go of Jack’s other hand and steps away from him. Jack looks at her confused, but she doesn’t meet his eyes, just looks at her big brother pleadingly. “No,” she whispers, hoarse.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, “Alex, I’m so-“

Her face closes off, goes hard and cold, and she nods, once, and it looks like it took her all she had to do it.

He turns to Jack, ”Eric Coleman,” he says and _Jack_ pales, and before anyone can do anything he is holding Alex in front of him like a living shield, with a glowing wand tip pressed to her neck. It burns Alex’s skin and she hisses in pain, her eyes murderous and betrayed.

“How do you know that name?” Eric demands.

“Russo.” Justin says, simply, not surprised that he wasn’t recognized. All the Russo’s have spells on them, masking their true identities. They are still on the run, after all.

Eric’s expression falters, “He told you about me? Why would he tell you about me? Are you one of his?” His voice turns hopeful and Justin has to push down nausea. He keeps his eyes on Eric’s face, but he doesn’t miss the way Alex suddenly goes absolutely still, the way his parents haven’t said a word or Max taking out his wand.

“No,” he answers and sighs before continuing, “Mercury rising.” Because he has always been a dork and he loved that movie and it had sounded like an awesome phrase to use for a code phrase.

Eric starts, in recognition, then a smile spreads across his face and his wand drops slightly, which is all Max was waiting for.

His little brother slashes his wand and Eric falls down, unconscious.    

Alex nudges his prone form with her shoe but he doesn’t show signs of faking it. She remains there, next to him, looking off to the side, clenching and unclenching her fists.

“I’m guessing he is one of yours,” his father states, sounding tired.

“He was.”

“Still is,” his father corrects, “judging by his reactions.”

Their mother has approached Alex while they were talking. She tries to comfort her, but Alex shrugs her hands off and shakes her head a few times, as if trying to shake off reality.

She raises her head and meets his eyes, “Must you ruin _everything_?” she spits out, furious and hurt.

“He is not a good man,” he says, because he knows what Eric does to pretty, dark haired women like Alex.

“And you are?” she asks mockingly, “You think _you_ of all people can judge.”

“I am worse than he will ever be.” His magic crackles under his skin, dark and playful and forbidding, and Alex looks like she wants to scoff. He could remind her of what he did to her, of the scars he had left her with, but that would be cruel. This is heartbreak speaking, spitting out the words using her mouth.

“He was my _servant_.” It feels ridiculous to use that word, but it is the truth. “I was his- He was my-“ He scrubs a hand over his face, “You can keep him if you want,” he offers, “He won’t hurt you if I tell him not to.”

“Justin.” Max sounds serious and Justin looks at him, confused. “Knock it off, bro.”

“What.”

“You are slipping.” He says and yanks at the bond connecting them, leaving Justin feeling dizzy from the sudden lack of pressure in his chest and the quieting of his magic. He blinks it away, and when his eyes refocus he sees his family looking at him with horror.

His eyes slide to the body on the floor and back at his family. He rewinds the last couple of minutes in his head and-

 _Crap_.

Alex stalks toward him, “I can keep him, you say. I can keep him.” His little sister sounds dangerous, for all her words are said sweetly. She stops in front of him, eyes flashing with malice and rage and then she blinks and her entire face transforms, shatters in a moment, and she starts crying, her voice breaking when she says – _No, please, no, don’t_ \- “I want to keep him.” She covers her mouth with her hand, to prevent any more horrible truths from slipping out. “How- How bad is he?” She asks after a minute.

Justin grits his teeth. “I can make sure he never hurts you.”

She takes a deep breath and wipes away her tears, composing herself with astonishing speed, “I can do that myself. That’s not what I asked.”

“You don’t want to know.”

She shrugs, “Did he eat someone? If I could deal with Mason eating someone, I could deal with Jack eating someone.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“He’s a killer then, okay.”

“That’s not okay. Stop it. I’m not telling you.”

“So… he is a killer, but not just a killer. You are too concerned for it to be anything simple like a thief so…rapist?”

“Dammit, Alex!”

She smirks, triumphantly, and then she remembers what they are talking about and all the mirth leaves her. She looks back, at Jack, only to find her parents tying him up and Max throwing binding spells. Her father catches her looking, “He’s not touching you again, and I don’t care what your brother is offering you. We are turning him in.”

***

They turn Jack in, and prepare to leave, another set of identities burned.

Alex finds him, just before they leave the house, her posture hesitant, her eyes conflicted. “He was so good to me,” she says, “It’s hard to believe that-“ she cuts herself off, sighs, and comes to sit next to him.

Justin puts his arm around her shoulders, and leans his head against hers. “No matter what dad says, if you want him…” he trails off when she tenses.

“It’s so tempting,” she admits after a long minute. “It wouldn’t be true. It wouldn’t be true, and you cannot make it be true. I don’t want a lie.”

“All we have is lies,” he says, thinking of all the times they had to change their names, uproot their entire lives so he wouldn’t be caught and killed, “I’m so sorry.”

“I liked this life.” She admits.

“The next one will be our last,” he promises.

***

It is.

Juliet’s parents find them.

Justin comes to visit his parents and finds them and his siblings tied up and gagged in the middle of their living room. Max has two red dots on his neck, and he looks far too pale. Cindy looks smug.

“We wanted to wait,” Alucard tells him, “until you had a daughter of your own. Eye for an eye. But you are taking too long, and I am too angry. We will take everything else you have instead.”

“And you wanted me to see you do it.” He says it calmly, even though his blood is boiling. (His magic trashes inside the prison of skin; it will melt it and melt his flesh; it will char his bones, burn them black then burn them white, burn them until they are nothing but ash and then scatter them all around.

Max whimpers and _yanks_ , and Justin calms down enough to realize there is only one way out.)

Alucard nods, “You cannot do anything about it. Your family will die tonight.”

Justin turns away from Alucard and looks at Max imploringly, but his brother is stubborn and only shakes his head no. “Max, please. You have to let me go.”

Alucard frowns, confused and Jerry’s eyes widen with understanding and he starts screaming through his gag. Justin meets his father’s eyes, but quickly looks away. There is no other way.

“I’m possessive, Max, you know that. You are my family. I won’t let them- And- I can’t- Not like this. You have to. Max.”

“I’ve had enough of this nonsense,” Alucard says, “We will start with your mother.”

Cindy steps closer to Theresa, smiling wickedly, her fangs gleaming white.

Justin ignores the van Heusen’s, ignores everyone but his brother, “Max.”

Ma holds his eyes then nods once, defeated, bows his head and cries.

The bond snaps.

***

Afterwards, Justin shakes himself to get the ashes of two ancient vampires off. It’s gray and it is marring his beautiful black wings. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the remains of black magic in the air. His fingers are not tingling anymore. They have been, for years, the magic in him having been too contained. It’s better now.

He magics his family out of their binds and they get up from the floor, shaking their limbs, trying to get the feeling back to them. All except from Max who is still sitting on the floor, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Alex speaks to him, without looking away from Justin, “Max, pull him back.”

“…”

“Max!”

“I can’t.”

Justin smirks at her and teleports away.

Alex rounds on her brother, furious. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“There is just so many times you can reverse someone’s morality before they snap.”

Alex frowns, “Try again. Tug at the bond.”

“There is no bond, not anymore.” Max tells her tiredly. “It snapped. It has been strained for a while.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, “And you didn’t think to tell anyone.”

“He told me,” Jerry says.

“Justin-“

 “Justin knew. He was on the other end of the bond, of course he knew. There was nothing to be done, but hope.”

“But-“

“You can become evil after being good, but you can never truly be good after you had been evil. It stains the soul.”

“He was good.”

“He still has Rosie’s wings.” Her father tells her, pityingly, “He offered you Jack. He offered you another human being. He offered to _twist_ another human being to suit your needs. Are those actions of a good man?”

“I-“

“He was twisted by a Dark Angel. It’s not his fault, Alex, we all know that. But it is what it is. We knew this was not going to last.”

“ _You_ knew.”

Her father sighs heavily, and makes no excuses.

“What now?” she asks, and he clenches his jaw.

“Now I keep my promise.”

“And how do you plan on doing it?”

“It’s already done,” Jerry answers, “we secretly tied a spell into the bond he had with Max.”

“What does that even _mean_?”

“It means I killed my brother when I let the bond break,” Max answers her, his voice flat. She meets his eyes and instantly recoils at the sight of them, dull and lifeless. He turns away from her, from them all, and goes out of the room, into the hallway and out of sight. She hears the front door open and close. A few seconds later, she sees him through the window, walking away.

She turns back to her father, “Justin is dead?”

“As good as,” Jerry sighs and winces when Theresa explodes, yells, curses him, and curses the poison in his blood.

“I never should have married you. Never should have-“

“Given birth to us?” Alex interrupts her and her mother’s head whips around to her and she freezes. Alex expects her to take her words back, to lie that it wasn’t going to be what she was about to say, but she doesn’t.

“I love you, Alex. And I love your brothers. I love your father,” she says after taking a deep breath, not sparing her husband a glance. “I hate magic,” she continues, “I hate that you all love it so much. I wish I could have ripped it out of you. I hate that you never got to have your Wizard Competition. I was looking forward to two of you losing your magic.”

Alex has always known this, but it is still shocking to hear it be said so clearly, “Magic is a part of us.”

“My _son_ is dying as we speak, because of it. My _other son_ killed him with it, and I lost him as well. Max is not coming back to us, Alex, not figuratively and not literally.”

“He just-“

“He’s not coming back. A mother knows. And you, mija, you haven’t been yourself since Justin hurt you. All because of magic. Everything bad that ever happened to us is because of it. Sometimes- Sometimes I wish you had escaped Justin just a bit later, just a bit too late to save your magic.”   

“Mom-“

“I wish they had turned him to stone.”

“He is a stone, now.” Jerry finally speaks up, tired and resigned.

For a moment, Alex feels the grief tear at her insides but then- turned to stone does not mean dead, not if it was done by magic.

Jerry sees the moment she comes to that conclusion, “Alex, don’t-“

She snaps her fingers and is gone.

***

It takes her a few days to find him. He is in the middle of the street, frozen in motion. People take pictures of him, thinking he is just a sculpture. She cannot just whisk him away, not in the middle of the day, with all the witnesses. It’s dangerous to wait, she knows. If the other wizards find him, they will smash him to pieces and she’s not sure even magic could bring him back from that.

( _Stevie_ never came back.)

She stays there the entire day, guarding him, and when night falls and no one is around, she grabs him and teleports them both to his old castle. She snoops around and finds a tool shed and a saw.

She cuts his wings off. It’s not enough to turn him good but she figures it might help. She will find a way. She hits him with every binding and restraining spell she knows. The spell they used to turn him into stone is the same one that was going to be used on him after his trial. She has researched that one extensively, just in case the wizards found him and used it on him. It is a hard one to reverse.

She will need to- she will-

For her brother, she will do whatever it takes.

She glances at his still form, and away. “I know you, the good you, wouldn’t want this.”

The stone doesn’t speak. “But it’s not like you can stop me now.” Alex nods once, to herself. “You cannot stop me.”

***

A few days later, on the other side of the world, Max stops in the middle of the street and blanches. The raw, broken end of his bond with Justin is shuddering, whining like a wounded animal. Alive.

 _Damn you, Alex_ , is all he has time to think before-

The bond snaps, like a whip and stretches, stretches until it riches the other end of itself and _mends_.

Max drops to his knees, clutching at his chest where it is clawing at him, trying to tear him to pieces, to smother him and bleed him. Panicked pedestrians surround him, concerned and utterly useless and someone yells at them _to get back, give him some air_ , but it’s not air he is missing, it’s not his heart that is failing.

His head feels like lead and he falls even further down, too weak to raise his hands, he smashes his face in the concrete. He breathes too quickly, panicked, and squeezes his eyes shut. He cries and whimpers and his brother doesn’t stop clawing at his soul, urgent. Max is not sure how long it is before he gives up and yanks back, viciously. The pain stops abruptly. Max takes a deep breath, feeling light from the lack of pain. He shivers. His skin is clammy, from the pain-sweat, and the wind doesn’t help. He is so cold.  

Suddenly, the bond feels stronger, and he knows that his brother is near. He had revealed his location to him when he had yanked at the bond and-

Justin crouches down, in front of him, and the sight of him, alive and hale brings joy to Max, the terrible grip guilt and sorrow had on him finally loosens. Max doesn’t ignore the darkness he can feel skulking under his brother’s skin, he really doesn’t. It just doesn’t matter as much as it once had.

He knows they had been bonded for far too long.

(it was never a one-way bond)

Justin smiles, gently, his eyes concerned, “Let’s get you home.” He helps him get up, and Max leans on him and lets him lead them away. The people scatter, satisfied that he has someone to help him.

Justin’s hold on his arm is firm, possessive and inescapable but not harmful.

“She brought you back.”

“Yup.”

“Where are your wings?”

“She cut them off.”

“Doesn’t she know that they are not really physical but more of a representation of a soul? They will only grow back.”

“I think she knows and doesn’t care.”

Max sighs.

“Bond or no bond, you can’t pull me back anymore.”

“I know.”

“I can pull _you_ down.”

Max pats his arm, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Justin hums noncommittally, gets them out of sight and transports them away.

They show up at the castle to find Alex sitting at a sofa, pretending to be reading a magazine. She sets it down when she sees them and smiles. She gets up, and launches herself at them, hugging them both tightly.

Max’s stomach gurgles in hunger, and she smirks, rolls her eyes and drags them both in the direction of the kitchen. Justin and Alex snipe at each other as they exit the room and walk through the long hallway, passing the great hall on their way. Max makes the mistake of glancing inside of it and the sight makes his gut churn, hunger forgotten. Stone wings are in the center, smashed but still recognizable, white, ironically. His mind shies away from the rest of the scene as his eyes attempt to skirt away. They pass the doorway quickly. The last thing he sees, before his sightline is blocked by the wall, is Frenkie, dragging two of the bodies away, a leg in each hand.

Alex and Justin are still arguing good-naturedly.

Max blinks the images of carnage away and chooses his siblings. Always, forever.

(he dooms them all) 

The invisible Guardian Angel that was frantically shouting at him stops, unable to follow anymore, as if he has hit a wall. He pushes and pushes at the empty air in front of himself but he cannot pass.

The distance between him and his charge grows until he is out of sight, until he cannot even sense him anymore.

Resigned, the angel stops pushing at the barrier. He hangs his head, his wings sagging.

He has lost a charge.

He leaves when he hears Frenkie come back, whistling a merry tune.

***

In the headquarters of the Guardian Angels an alarm goes off. Red lights flash and the shrill sound drives despair into the hearts of all angels.

The arrow of the Moral Compass moves on its own, spins and stops, pointing to the Bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that someone might disagree about the influence Russo siblings have on the Moral Compass, but considering the fact that their combined power was capable of destroying Gorog in the series, I don’t think this is out of the question. Especially since one of them has world domination as his goal, and the other two are supporting him. Something like that is bound to affect balance.


End file.
